Darlin’ I’m a many-ringed tree
Divorced, but not from life
I wear Santal 33 and you,
Something with a ship on the bottle
But in your face I see
A wise smile and innocence
Because you get to elect your corruption
When mine was a mandatory subject
There’s fog for 20 metres from here From here to screen To midwinter For the chill to draw out this splinter If I could, I would. See? I’m restless But in a wrestle Can’t follow the weather Can’t stay in the metre
Choose your fighter carefully Or you’ll be a well-honed knife That’s in search of fear It was a path You laid out For yourself Well, I’m too old to lose a breast As I fight for respect In the name of a straighter shot
